Chapter Eight: Harlequin & Firewhiskey

Enough was enough. This git was not going to keep treating Ginny like this. Gathering her courage, she tilted her chin and stormed into his office, slamming the door loudly behind her.

"Ah..Granger, the pleasures all yours, I'm sure." He mocked.

"Malfoy, I've hit you before, and I won't hesitate to do it again."

"Oh, you're such a tease, Granger." Malfoy feigned embarassment, leaning back in his chair, "What can I do for you?"

"It's about Blaise and Gin." Hermione replied, flopping into the chair in front of him.

"Yes, they are acting quite immature, aren't they?"

"They?" she asked, raising a brow, " Ginny responds only to the actions of that git friend of yours."

"And she does nothing to provoke him?"

"I..She..Uh.." She stammered, Ginny did have a tendency to blow things out of proportion-A Weasely family trait. "Well, I just thought that because she considers you- for whatever reason- a friend, you might say something to Blaise."

"And what should I say Granger? Tell me, do you ever wonder why Ginny responds the way she does to him? With most people, she lets things go. Why does every little thing Blaise say get under her skin? And vice versa?" He came out of the chair and around the desk, sliding onto the corner of it. "It's because they have it, Granger."

"It?" She gulped.

"Yes, it, chemistry, sparks, whatever the hell you want to call it. They've got it, and they won't admit it. It's like a damn Harlequin book in the making."

That was the first moment she truly looked at Draco Malfoy. He was still the same arrogant, fool from school. What scared her was she was starting to like it. "You know..maybe you were qualified for the DADA position after all, Draco." She stood, taking a few steps back to maintain a polite, decent distance, and stretched out her hand, "Friends?"

He stared at her hand, silver eyes taking in her hand, and then trailing up her arm to her eyes, soft, melt-in-your mouth chocolate brown eyes. His own hand shot out, and grabbed hers, using it to pull her to his body.

"We're more than that and you know it."

With that he brought her lips to his, bruising them with his need. He slid his other arm down her side, and up under the hem of her shirt, rubbing the skin there lightly. She shivered, and leaned closer still, one leg curling around his, as her lips parted. He smiled against her lips and chuckled.

"They're not the only romance book in the making are they, Granger?"

Her eyes, which had somehow closed during the moment, flew open. Arrogant jerk. She hauled off and slapped him.

He blinked. And Hermione noticed a tick in his jaw which was set firmly.

"What in the hell was that for?"

"For..for..kissing me you idiot."

"Oh, please, quit living in the past Granger, Weasely's not coming back, you can't let that ruin your life."

She clenched her fists, and thought she saw a spark of fear in his eyes. Good.

"What, so I should let you ruin my life instead? Think again, Malfoy. This was a bad idea. You haven't changed a bit. Do us all a favor and take a long walk off a short pier."

With that, she marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

The first time Blaise had gotten smashed was after his mother's funeral. The second was, oddly enough, after becoming Head Boy, the third was at the end of that year, before things with the war picked up. And over the time he'd realized that the alcohol wasn't what he craved. The pain afterwords, the hangover, was. It was a way of self-punishment, it made him realize he wasn't dead, or invulnerable.

Tonight was his first visit back to the Hogshead Tavern in nearly five years. It was quiet, since it was late. That was the way he liked it, better to make a fool out of himself in front of as few people as possible. The bar door burst open and he barely looked up from his firewhiskey until Hermione Granger flopped down beside him in a huff.

"Fancy meeting you here, Granger."

"Shut up Zabini."

Madam Rosmerta came up to take her order, "What'll it be, dear?" She eyed the swollen, red-eyed Hermione, " A Butterbeer?"

"Bah." Hermione snarled, "Butterbeer's for kids, I'll show him living in the past, I'll have a firewhiskey."

Rosmerta started to protest, but Blaise interrupted,"Don't worry about it, I'll get her home safely." She nodded and went off to fill the order.

With drink in hand, Hermione regarded Blaise.

"Let's get shitfaced, shall we?" They klinked their drinks ceremoniously, and both downed their drinks in a gulp.

"Morning Hermione."

"Morning Gin."

Hermione yawned as she made her way through to Ginny's small kitchenette. Coffee. She needed coffee. Now.Ginny walked back by Hermione, stopping.

"Uh, Hermione. I love you..But why in the hell are you in my room?"

Hermione stopped, coffee forgotten, as the events of the previous night returned to her. No. No. No freaking No. She had gotten drunk, and started talking to Zabini, and then...she looked down at her left hand,

"Bloody hell."

"Hermione? Are you ok?" Ginny stepped forward apprehensively.

"Gin...I'm married."

"What? To who!"

"Morning lovelies." Blaise said, standing in the doorway, stretching.

"YOU!" Screeched Hermione, she ran up and slapped him. Ginny's eyes widened and then quickly narrowed in anger. Taking a leaf from Hermione's book, she marched up to Blaise and slapped him again.

Blaise blinked. What in the hell was wrong with these people? As the memories from last night came back to him, his eyes widened, and he turned towards Hermione.

"Granger..Did we really..?"

"Yes, we did."

"Oh. Shit."